Well then, here we go.

Blah blah it's inevitable. And yes, It'll never be updated. But it might be interesting and surely trying to write something every day is good for your brain. Surely? It seems I played with blogger, abortively, back in the pre-Google days (shock horror!). I had to tie the address to my Google account. It felt so Web 1.5, I almost wept with reminiscence. Christmas Eve doesn't feel like Christmas at all this year. Perhaps it's because I'm in work; perhaps because I've only put decorations up at work, rather than the usual 3000 lights scattered around me; perhaps because it's so gosh-darnedly warm! Yesterday afternoon the ground was wet, rather than frozen, the air was almost warm and there were birds singing in the naked trees. I still haven't had to resort to trousers yet and yet my legs are not even chilly. Mostly I think it's due to not visiting IKEA nearly enough of late. Christmas tastes of Sweden. Or vice versa. This morning, when waiting for the bus, I had to scurry round the corner to hide because the Crazy Man of the moment was approaching. This chap, rarely seen without a canister of butane up his sleeve, recently accosted me on the bus and started asking for advice on how to gain weight. Which I felt was a little cheeky. He then, a few days ago, caught Stephen and Joe at the back of a bus and started on them. Stephen quickly made a break for the relative safety of Me but Joe, being a good polite boy, couldn't drag himself away and spent the rest of the evening in a contemplative haze. So on seeing Crazy Man this morning I bolted. And now. To work.